


Can We Keep Him?

by thewaythatwerust



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Art, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky gets his way, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Clint is a Good Boyfriend, Embedded Images, Established Relationship, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Post-Endgame with Fix-it and Everyone's Happy and Alive and Nothing Hurts, dragons!, winterhawk - Freeform, winterhawk in wakanda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:40:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22707877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewaythatwerust/pseuds/thewaythatwerust
Summary: Bucky drops his hand back to the grass, removing any perceivable threat, and bows his head slightly, letting his lips tip up. Always a bit of what Clint calls a nerd at heart, Bucky has an innate love of all things science and magic... and a dragon? A dragon is decidedly magic, and he loves it on sight.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton
Comments: 12
Kudos: 83
Collections: Winterhawk Valentine's Day 2020 Blind Date Exchange





	Can We Keep Him?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hawksonfire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawksonfire/gifts).



> i. For hawksonfire for the WinterHawk Blind Date, who requested _-DRAGONS!! ALL THE DRAGONS!!! (pls no evil dragons)_ I hope this fills a small dragon-shaped hole in your heart! 
> 
> ii. Beta'd by the most Festive of Ferrets. <3
> 
> iii. Contains embedded sfw arts.
> 
> iv. This is probably G rated to be honest, but... ehh, I went with T for a few suggestive comments, just to be safe.

Bucky is here... and then he isn’t. A strange tugging sensation behind his belly button jerks him backward, into an abyss of nothingness. He’s falling, and floating, and lost. And then, all at once, he’s found again - rushing back into himself like he’s waking up from a dream that he can’t quite remember but lingers just the same.

“We won,” Steve mutters, shocked disbelief curling around his words.

The stories of the _how_ are as unfathomable as the _where_ and _when_ he had disappeared into. Thor missed the head on the first strike but took the hand with the second, and the rainbow stone gauntlet was claimed as the spoils of victory. Bruce’s alter ego unsnapped the snapped, and the dusted reformed, and the planet was safe, but not without scars to remember the battle. Avengers - both familiar friends and fresh faces - assemble in Wakanda to mitigate the aftermath the best they’re able.

Bucky is assigned to the cleanup crew, gathering tech left behind when the biological threat had been culled. It's easy work, mindless, a glorified game of fetch, dropping the remnants in a pile where Tony and Princess Shuri are bickering over who gets what, before he’s turning tail and setting off to retrieve the next prize. But finally, all miscellaneous space junk is collected, divvied up, and with Strange’s help, transported to its final destination.

Duty done, Bucky shrugs off soldier mode, and the black uniform and arm of war that come with it.

The sun is still shining, bright and gold, when he climbs from the warm water of the lake and into the gifted clothes, worn and soft. Busy with rebuilding, and finally with stranger faces than his on offer, no one pays him any mind as he strolls down the well worth path into the grove of trees just beyond his hut.

Surrounded by lush greens in his favorite clearing, he folds down into the grass, ass resting on heels, and lets the goats climb over him, bleating and headbutting him in familiar greeting. He catches them, scratches and pets them, letting the joy from their antics float to the surface and uncoil the tension still clinging to his body.

The sound of another small form crashing through the underbrush has him reaching back, holding his hand out to beckon the latecomer. When no furry friend nips at his hand, he turns - and falters. Though small, and cute, and four-legged, the creature staring back at him is most definitely not a goat. With scaly skin instead of fur, colored green not white, it has horns and wings, and claws that look like they could make a mark even on his vibranium arm if he had it attached.

Seemingly sensing his hesitation, the creature cocks its head, giving Bucky the distinct impression he’s being sized up as much as the reverse.

He drops his hand back to the grass, removing any perceivable threat, and bows his head slightly, letting his lips tip up. Always a bit of what Clint calls a nerd at heart, Bucky has an innate love of all things science and magic... and a dragon? A dragon is decidedly magic, and he loves it on sight.

Expecting it to stalk forward like a predatory beast, Bucky’s laugh spills from his lips, unbidden, when it springs forward, two feet at a time, like an excited puppy. As if lured by the sound, the dragon hops to him, bouncing onto the rock beside him mostly hidden in the long grass. It rears up on its back legs, placing its front feet on his arm, claws catching on the threads of his shirt, and looks at him quizzically.

“What. The. Hell?”

So caught up in the unexpected - but delightful - turn of events, Bucky has completely missed Clint’s arrival. He turns to his boyfriend and lets his eyes rake appreciatively over the impractically-tight uniform before dragging back up to Clint’s shocked expression, his own eyes going wide and soft. “Can we keep him?”

Clint’s shocked expression filters down into his voice. “Uh, that seems to be a _dragon_ , Barnes. You can’t _keep_ a dragon.”  
  


“Why not?”  
  
“It’s not a puppy or a goldfish, or --” Clint gestures at the other animals laying around him in the grass “-- a goat. It’s not practical. Where would you keep it? Our hut is barely big enough for _you_.”

The weight shifts off his arm, and Bucky twists to watch the dragon leap off the stone. It hops around in a circle, chasing its tail. Bucky turns back to Clint, jutting out his lower lip and drawing his eyebrows together forlornly, _want_ rearranging his features.

Clint shakes his head. “No. I’ve seen this movie. First it eats your goats, then it eats _you_ , and then it flies around barbecuing Wakanda. _No._ ”

Bucky gestures to the dragon, now happily headbutting a new fuzzy friend. “Look, he already knows goats are friends.”

Clint snorts. “That’s called playing with your food. You can’t fight nature. You don’t see me trying to make friends with pizza, do you?”

“He’ll be fine. Lindy is a good dragon, I can tell.”

“Aw, Buck, no. You named it already? Don’t do that. Don’t get attached.”

“We can’t just leave him alone to fend for himself.” Bucky’s eyes catch and narrow on the small tears in the leathery fabric of the dragon’s wing. “He’s hurt.”

“It could be a threat.” Clint scrubs a hand through his hair. “What am I saying? It’s a dragon, _of course_ it’s a threat. Anyway, all alieny things are to go to Stark or T’Challa, which means it won’t be alone, and it won’t be our problem - I call that a win-win.”

“He’s not a threat. He’s tiny.”

“He’s going to get bigger. And so are those teeth.”

Bucky watches the small beast as he rolls on the ground, rubbing his wings in the dirt, tail flicking up in the air like a whip, and a heaviness settles in his belly. “But still. He’s here…” Bucky shrugs slowly though the gears in his mind pick up speed. “It’s gotta be hard, to be in a strange place, a new time, all alone and hurt…” Bucky rubs his hand across his cloth-covered left shoulder.

Clint’s eyes narrow at the obvious manipulation, but the air in his lungs pushes out in a long, low breath just the same. “ _Bucky_.”

In his former life, Bucky had learned to use hesitation to his advantage, and now, sensing the wavering resolve, he turns doleful eyes on Clint, going in for the kill. “ _Pleeeaase?_ ”

The scaly, green rope in their game of tug-of-war hops up to Clint and rubs its horns against his shin, and Bucky’s lips twitch as he fights to keep them even. The air around them, heavy with the silent battle of wills, is broken by Clint’s resigned huff, a fanfare to Bucky’s victory.

“Okay. _Fine._ ” Clint moves forward, grasps Bucky’s hand and tugs him to his feet. “Do you think we can teach it tricks, at least?”

“Give me one of your arrows, we’ll start with fetch.”

“You touch my arrows and you’ll lose the other arm, Barnes.” Clint nudges his shoulder into Bucky’s chest playfully. “I was thinking more along the lines of toasting marshmallows, or bringing me coffee.”  
  
“ _I_ bring you coffee.”  
  
“I know, why else do you think I keep you around?”  
  
“For my good looks, sparkling personality, and because I’m great in bed?”  
  
Clint’s laugh is warm with affection. “Yeah, that too.” He brushes his lips across Bucky’s shoulder. “You know, for the record, I didn’t bat an eyelash when you wanted to shack up in an actual shack, and a herd of goats is not what I had in mind when thinking about a future with kids, but I went with it, because it makes you happy. But a dragon? An actual dragon? From outer space?” His sigh is exaggerated and long-suffering. “You’re very lucky that I love you.”

Being lost in oblivion hadn’t been entirely unfamiliar to Bucky. He has spent more of his life adrift than is comfortable or natural, being swept along in the currents of circumstance without affirmation or autonomy. But in the Avengers he’s found family, and in Clint he’s found home - a tether to happiness he isn’t sure he deserves but is grateful for all the same. His ribs ache as his chest swells, so much emotion not easily contained, and he threads his fingers through Clint’s, letting his feelings filter through the familiar, calloused skin pressing against his. “Yeah, I know,” Bucky murmurs, turning a soft smile on Clint.  
  
“You know Stark is going to call you Mother of Dragons now, right?” Clint laughs, resting his head against Bucky’s.  
  
“If he does, I’ll make an exception to the _no eating people_ rule.”  
  
“You can’t do that!” Clint’s voice is aghast.  
  
Bucky sighs. “It wouldn’t be the worst thing I’ve done...”  
  
“No, I just mean, I bet Stark tastes horrible, very bitter. Would probably give Sparky indigestion, you can’t do that to the poor thing, Buck.”  
  
Bucky’s laugh rings loud and long, trailing after them, like the trio of goats and single dragon, all the way home.


End file.
